March 31st, 2020
Addendum: Not so surprisingly, just hours after this was first published, I began reading of webinars addressing the particular challenges facing arts and culture institutions. More to the point, I also saw certain politicians staking out the position that it is inappropriate for bail-out government funds to be available to this sub-sector. Hopefully this post will help articulate some of the dialectic regarding this realm.
In this post, I return to philanthropy-practitioner questions and practices – this time for those who fund in the Arts and Culture realm. As of this writing, I have not yet seen any larger discussion of this issue, although I anticipate that we will in the coming days and weeks. I welcome thoughts and reactions.
The question has been raised if it is legitimate or even ethical to continue funding in this area in the face of the overwhelming human urgency of COVID-19. COVID-19 is about life and death; arts and culture are about quality of life. What is a funder to think given that stark a comparison?
Similar questions have been raised in the past – during recessions, natural disasters, human caused disasters. “Compassion funding” – the very human and humane responses that we all feel at these times seems to weigh heavily toward an argument for a suspension of “quality of life” causes when so many are struggling with basic needs. Let’s get these people healthy or back on their feet and then we can get back to these “extras”.
That argument, though, is rebuttable. Even if one believes that the urgency of the moment outweighs the long term, it may be a short-sighted decision to discontinue all funding to this sub-sector. At the end of this thing, whenever it will be, we will need to re-engage and rebuild those organizations that add to the nature of what it means to be human, or perhaps better said: art and culture are not “additions” but essential.. Are we better off with shuttered centers and bankrupt organizations that would need to be created anew?
If history is any indication, the answer is that we should do what we can to sustain this sector, in some way, since gearing back up is much easier than starting back up.
The next question is: which ones? Is it more important to guarantee that the largest, wealthiest, most prestigious ones are kept whole since they serve the largest portion of the population on a regular basis? Or conversely, can we assume that those are also the organizations that do and will receive money from the deepest pocketed donors, governments, and endowments, so we should focus on the smaller entities that perennially exist on a more fragile financial base?
Part of the answer has to do with one’s funding style and priorities. For a “place-based” funder – that is, a funder whose giving priorities are primarily connected to a particular city or region, sustaining local institutions with which they have had meaningful relationships over time may be the most appropriate and compelling approach. One’s funding at this time may not be sufficient to keep the organization whole, but it may be enough to keep it alive. That support should involve cash, of course, but it may also include contracting for expertise in helping all regional nonprofits during times of enforced transition. A singe consultant may well serve to advise an entire cadre of at-risk institutions.
We know from past crises that there will be both consolidations and fall out. And there will be time for that down the road. But forcing those kinds of hard and strategic choices in a time of crisis is exactly the wrong time to force existential decisions. That is especially true in this particular time of COVID-19 when no one can know what kinds of earned revenue will be possible or when physical spaces will be open again. And no one can fully know what kind of economic downturn has begun.
The issue is more complex for the larger legacy institutions. Most of us were aghast to read that the Washington based NSO laid off its entire orchestra the same day it received a guarantee of an infusion from bailout funds. It creates a conceptual dilemma for funders: If we believe that those legacy institutions are national treasures that deserve taxpayer support, then we might argue that private philanthropy should be reserved for those institutions that don’t receive that support. But here, even with taxpayer funding, the leadership acted in what appear to be self-destructive ways, or at least, with severe myopia. Whatever the correct longer-term answer, it is certainly true that modest pocketed funders will not be able to make up the difference for those large legacy institutions. Better to leave their philanthropy to places where their funding will make a/the difference.
It has become fairly much the norm in the last two weeks for funders to agree to remove restrictions from existing funding, simplify their application and decision processes, speed up their payment of grants, and dig deeper into reserves. All of this applies to arts and culture funding as well – but with one additional caveat: funding should be built around the commitment by the recipient boards to keep their organizations alive – even if not whole -until, as we suggest above, the time is right to take the hard look at what we need to do to keep a robust arts and culture community functioning well into the future.
There will be very, very hard decisions ahead about which groups and institutions survive, consolidate, merge, or, sadly, close. But the option should never be to surrender our commitment to the quality of human experience as provided by the “arts and culture” sector. History has taught us no less.
March 29th, 2020
Reader alert: Those of you who read these essays exclusively for thoughts on philanthropy should note that these contemplations are not primarily about philanthropy [although philanthropy does make an appearance for a few paragraphs in the middle]. #365 and #366 are about philanthropy’s role and responsibilities during and after COVID-19, and if you haven’t seen them, I encourage you to take a look.
“6-foot social distancing” has become the new definition of how physically close we should allow ourselves to be from those other than the very few with whom we are sharing our primary space. This makes a lot of people uncomfortable – the very words “social distancing” seem to imply that we need to disconnect from our social relationships. An easy and oft-used corrective is to say “physical distancing; social connecting”. The point is clear. No one wants to advocate that we sever human relationships in pursuit of maintaining our own and our communities’ health.
Let’s state the obvious at the beginning. Technology has made that idea remarkably possible. Whichever one chooses: zoom, skype, hangouts…. It is now possible to communicate immediately and visually with anyone who has even relatively up to date technology. Indeed, for many, working at home without travel has allowed schedules to become fully packed from morning ‘til evening. We may indeed be physically at a distance but we most assuredly are not socially disconnected. No disaster, crisis, economic downturn, pandemic in the past has afforded us these opportunities. [And my communication with friends and colleagues around the world suggest that others elsewhere are experiencing the same.]
As I said, this is or should be obvious to all. And yet…
It may not be quite so simple. To unpack this, permit a step back.
Most readers know that I have had the distinct privilege of speaking in 40 countries and visiting numerous others. One of the most immediate learnings by anyone who does this professionally is to adapt to local, national, or regional customs about communication styles. Does one shake hands, hug, air-kiss, bow? What should one wear? How is money exchanged? What about business cards? What time does one eat – and is it appropriate or expected or bad form to discuss business over meals? In fact, at one point some years ago, I was traveling so frequently between European countries that I could identify how to wear a scarf and at what pace to walk within a few minutes of arriving in a new place.
One of the most difficult adjustments was “space.” How far does one stand from another? Is touching expected or verboten? In subtle ways, often hard to articulate, this becomes the most nuanced way in which the stranger is distinguished from the native. Long before we had the current “6-foot” metric, guidebooks tried to help business travelers figure this piece out – sometimes even in inches.
Distancing between human beings is a reflection of our relationship to “space.” It says something about ourselves, how we perceive the world around us, what family means – and who is an insider or outsider. Architecture and design are, bottom line, the process of taking those understandings and making them real. [t is, after all, called “real estate”.] All one needs to do is to compare and contrast how different cultures, at the same stages of technology development, choose to design homes and public spaces. Those differences say everything about how those cultures understand and manifest the human condition.
Technology has a good deal to say about that “reality”. Today, we have the option of different and purposeful modeling that might not have been possible or even imaginable in prior ages. We can choose to make a home or office or school or shop look and feel as we wish. Our design choices say a great deal about how we wish to interact with family, friends, co-workers, clients. Some years ago, I had professional reasons to visit both the Bloomberg headquarters and the NY Times headquarters shortly after they were each opened. Both were striking new buildings, yet they conveyed radically different understandings about how people work, what status does or doesn’t mean, what the visitor/outsider should or shouldn’t feel, what is the relationship to the outside physical world to the inside.
The foundation world is no exception: Over the years, I have visited the offices and headquarters of many fellow funders and foundations. They convey radically different perspectives on how they want to be experienced – by board or staff or petitioners/grant seekers. To take just two very visible examples:
The headquarters of the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation is a green building, has a visitor center, and, while impressive, doesn’t overwhelm. The open-design offices and cafeteria don’t convey a sense of hierarchy, and a guest does not experience a sense of a domineering presence. [This is not a comment on how one gets funded or what is funded – only the experience within the building itself.]
Contrast that with another foundation headquarters I once visited [name purposely withheld]. When I entered the building, I assumed that it was a repurposed mansion. Imagine my surprise when I learned that this foundation headquarters was built from the ground up, featuring high end marble and very formal spaces. They were proud that they sometimes opened their meeting rooms to the nonprofit community in that city, but I couldn’t help wondering if the overall message of entering that building is one that reinforces class distinction. The physical space leaves no question who has the power and who is the petitioner.
I don’t want to convey a “holier than thou” message here. When I was CEO of the foundation funded by the Seagram Company, the office was, not surprisingly, in the world-famous Seagram Building on Park Avenue in New York City. My office was in the executive suite behind locked doors and security. Someone coming to meet with me was left with no doubt about the power imbalance endemic to the role. As wonderful as the aesthetics of that space were, and I loved going there every day because of that, it wasn’t lost on me that anyone we considered funding could never truly feel as if they were on equal partner footing.
Our homes are where we have the opportunity to create spaces that convey the meaning of space for us as individuals and families. I have written elsewhere about my belief that life is an art form and therefore why aesthetics matter in designing and furnishing the spaces where we live. One of the values that Mirele and I share is to welcome guests into our home, so we work hard to create both a physical and social welcoming space. We love to host – dinners, receptions, networking, coaching – and the many pages of our filled guest books bear testimony to the many, many hundreds we have welcomed over the quarter century of our marriage.
So, for us, this COVID-19 mandated isolation goes beyond simply our being at home together. It means that we must literally close off a part of who we are and how we love to live our lives. It means that our space is now only a private and carefully protected space, fully comfortable for us, but absent those it is our natural instinct to invite in.
Zoom, skype, hangouts, and other apps go part way to welcoming others into our home and our lives. It helps to fill the gap as we all learn to cope, to adjust our norms, to learn new courtesies, and to keep us engaged. So, while we miss our in-person guests, we are not alone or lonely in our social connection.
Distance, though, raises an entirely different dilemma. We, as do all readers, understand why we maintain the 6-foot distances to reduce, as much as possible, our vulnerability to infection by proximity. The part of this behavior that is different than the kind of social/cultural distancing I referred to at the beginning of this essay is the visible fear in the faces of so many as we pass on a sidewalk or the lobby of our building. We are careful, we think, to honor that special divide, just as they too are careful, but one cannot be blind to the look of fear and trepidation for some if they sense that their space is being encroached upon. And we hear that fear in the voices of some of our family and friends around the world.
That fear is not misplaced if the data and the epidemiologists are correct. But fear is a terrible emotion by which to live. And it is that very fear that we must work very hard to address when we begin to safely emerge from our spatial isolations. That kind of fear, when internalized, has too often in history led to bad behaviors, bad public policies, and bad social outcomes.
We are in a moment of legitimate threat to us all. Fear is one of the legitimate responses. But fear is not an adequate or even appropriate emotion on which to build or rebuild a world. We need empathy and generosity of spirit and resources; we need an affirmation of the legitimacy of all, the rights of all, the dignity of all.
For now, for this moment, it means that we must share our spaces virtually or at safe distances from one another whenever we venture forth. At some point in the future, the challenge we will all have is to not allow fear to become a defining emotion of our interface with others, for our aspirations for the future, and for how we rebuild the world when the time is right.
That will be the true test of our resolve, our values, and our commitment to a world, an entire world, in need of repair and hope!
March 22nd, 2020
This is a follow up to #365 which reinforces the extraordinary work our philanthropy colleagues are enabling at this profoundly overwhelming moment in history. This post challenges our field, with the benefit of perspective afforded to few other sectors, to consider how we help rebuild our world going forward.
We are far from the end of this thing. We certainly don’t know how long our lives will be disrupted, how long we will be living in physical isolation and virtual connection, how high the mortality numbers will be, how deep and far reaching the inevitable recession will be, how permanently our lives will have been changed in every way.
We do know that there will be an end to the pandemic. And as happens at the end of every tragedy, crisis, disaster, things will never be quite the same. Thus, it is not too early to begin thinking about what those changes might be, can be and mustn’t be allowed to be.
Let’s start with the most sobering: we have begun to see the surge of problematic behaviors. In the USA, gun purchases and anti-Asian racist incidents have surged. Elsewhere in the world, domestic violence has begun to rise after an all too belated but welcome reduction in recent years. Nativism is a destructive political force in many countries. Limitations on civil society in many more.
Of particular concern in the USA is the growth of antinomianism and very deep cynicism toward any articulation of truth. Is it a surprise that teenage college students disregard alerts about COVID19 as irrelevant to them when they have come of age hearing that news and facts, even scientific ones, are “fake”? Is it a surprise that people selfishly hoard when they see that our government has dismantled the agencies charged with planning for crises such as this?
It didn’t take COVID 19 to see this deep-seated distrust. To take but one example: I have been a bit involved in the local funders’ Census2020 efforts. Let’s not forget that the census determines our representation and allocation of federal resources for the next 10 years. If any groups have a lot at stake it is the historically undercounted: immigrants, Latinos, African Americans, the poor, etc. Funders nationally have recognized the need to address these inequities by working toward a “complete count.” Yet in session after session, it was clear that those communities have no trust that their anonymity will be assured; that it isn’t simply another way for ICE to find ways to their front doors; that there won’t be manipulation of the results to further assure their long term disempowerment. Even when the head of the US Census Bureau tried to say that the Constitution guaranteed their anonymity, they didn’t trust that the current administration had any respect for those guarantees.
There are many more examples one can give about the erosion of civil society here in the USA, and many more that transcend political boundaries. Suffice it to say that, once we begin to see beyond the current pandemic [may that happen soon!], we will have a lot of rebuilding to do. Below are some systemic issues that we in the philanthropy world need to take seriously and in which we should assume leadership.
1. The fiction that any nation can be isolated from what is happening elsewhere in the world. One can close borders, erect artificial fences, but nature and economics seem to have a way of disrespecting any of those human-constructed boundaries. Therefore, first and foremost, let’s commit ourselves to insisting that public policy needs to take climate change seriously in any infusion of massive dollars into the economic system. The current pandemic should be a wake-up call to the impact on the world as our human-made destruction continues apace.
If one needs a proof text, all one needs to do is to see how quickly the air has cleared in Italy and China. Just imagine if we required that appropriate environmental policies were made permanent – using currently existing technology. We are beyond preserving everything, but such a massive environmental mobilization would go a long way to sustain much more of the world than predicted only a couple of months ago.
No, I am not advocating permanent social/physical isolation. I am advocating that, in the USA, we restore protections that have been removed in just the last 3 years, that we infuse as much of these newly approved billions into public transportation such as buses, trains, light rail – and not just for airlines. I trust that it need not be added that there is no need for our tax dollars to continue to subsidize fossil fuels. None.
2. Systemic Economic Adjustments: The divide between the rich and the not rich has become so severe that it has become as extreme as almost any society in history. And while it is true that the very rich have lost a lot of money over the last couple of weeks, let’s not pretend that they will be forced to sacrifice their lifestyles. Those same percentage drops in retirement funds will, though, make retirement a far more vulnerable reality for the vast majority.
If we do care about revitalizing the economy, let’s resist strongly 2 myths that have been consistently disproven except by extremist ideologues – both are implicitly immoral: that public support makes people lazy, and that trickle-down economics works. Enough has been written about this over the years by those more expert than me that I will simply refer readers to readily available documentation. But there are still those who believe it – or at least espouse it. There were Senators who refused to support the first bailout on the basis of creating dependence by the most at-risk members of our society. Shame on them!
3. Equity as the basis of public policy. Where to begin?
a. Minimum wage positions disproportionately are held by those of color, those from certain minority communities. Recent studies, long before COVID 19, have proven that, despite our national myth to the contrary, pulling oneself up by one’s bootstraps has become far more difficult in the USA than in many other countries. This is reinforced by…
b. Racism, xenophobia, anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, nativism, misogyny, gender bias – long standing cancers on the national ethos that have surfaced in more pronounced and dangerous ways than in 2 generations.
c. The absence of a meaningful safety net. The USA has always had one of the most porous safety net systems in the developed world. Over the last few year, exacerbated by this administration, those gaps have become every larger.
d. The US Medical System – if one can call it that – has been exposed. Surely, those with the means have been able to access the highest level of medical care in the world. For many others, to access care is a major personal sacrifice -and there is no guarantee of its quality. And for far too many others, basic medical care is a luxury beyond their means. The Pandemic, though, has shown that the absence of any system, any planning, and any underlying societal commitment. The ACA, an all too modest attempt to address this reality has been substantially dismantled. [For those who still choose to believe that the US is anywhere near the top of the world’s heap in this only need look at comparative infant mortality rates, the dropping of longevity compared to other nations, and the numbers of health related bankruptcies – unheard of elsewhere.]
I have previously advocated, only a bit sarcastically, that our national standard should be whatever congress provides for itself, but beyond that I have no commitment to any of the catchphrases. It should be clear to everyone, I hope, that anything less than a guarantee of medical care for all would be unconscionable after this episode.
4. Underlying all of this is a challenge to what a commitment to civil society, based on constitutional rights, means.
a. Education: It is shocking how uneducated our population has become. Once upon a time, the USA’s education system was a model to the world; today it is an embarrassment of illiteracy. Once upon a time, civil education was a core competence of our educational system; today most high school graduates would be hard pressed to articulate the rights guaranteed by the first 10 Amendments to the US Constitution. Once upon a time, substantive educational accomplishment was considered a sine qua non to financial security; today…
It cannot be overstated that we need to undertake a massive commitment to the value to an educated populace. And, indeed, massive is the right word since only a literate and informed citizenry can make decisions faced with purposeful disinformation, the mockery of science, the disregard of the responsible institutions of government, and more. At a time when information has become anarchized through the web, an educational system that addresses these new challenges is a mandate as never before.
b. Civil Discourse: It would be easy, and certainly not incorrect, to place much of the blame for the erosion of civil discourse and safe public spaces in the lap of the current occupant of the POTUS. If we are honest, though, it didn’t start with him or even in the last election cycle. And even when there will be a change in the person who sits in that seat, that will not suffice to begin to fix this. What is now considered acceptable in public settings was considered an embarrassment only a few years ago; the empowerment of xenophobic voices and concomitant hate crimes pushes us to the edge of the elasticity of what it means to be a part of a shared national community.
I am far from the first, nor will I be the last, to make these observations. Much has already been written and spoken about the dilemma and proposed paths forward to repair these deep wounds. But if it is true that we now have a moment when we will be called upon to rebuild our world, our national understanding, a restoration of a concept of civility, civil discourse, and the public square are indispensable.
We are about to be in the unique position of being called upon to rebuild our world – in many ways. History has taught us that there is no guarantee that such moments do not always bring out the best in people or their polity. We in the philanthropy world need to consider how we build all of this into our advocacy and in our funding so that we provide leadership to a rebuilding world that emphasizes values, understanding, knowledge and civility as core competencies that infuse every aspect of the way we live our lives.
It is a daunting mandate. We should do no less.
#365 We’ve Been Here Before – Lessons from Past Challenges to the Philanthropy Field in the Time of COVID-19
March 18th, 2020
“Everything that can be said has been said, but not everyone has said it.” This expression has been variously attributed to Winston Churchill, Abba Eban, and who knows who else.
As I have written and re-written this post over the last week, I have tried hard to avoid saying what so many of my colleagues in the philanthropy space have been saying. I do want to humbly express my admiration to our field for stepping up so quickly, thoughtfully, and, yes, even eloquently. The assertive actions and ambitious outreach I have observed demonstrates that our field is acting in assertive and proactive ways rarely seen in past crises.
Therefore, rather than reiterating those recommendations, these few comments are intended to underscore or articulate a few thoughts that seem understated by many. They are informed by what we have seen and learned from past crises – some caused by human behaviors and misbehavior, and some caused by acts of nature.
Among those lessons:
1. Our field has both short term and long-term capabilities.
a. If there has been one consistent message from this field, it is this: In the short term, our grantees face short falls, diminished contributions, and, depending on the grantee, increased demands for services. Since the US government and even many States have shown themselves to be pokey payers, many direct service agencies face the dilemma of long time wait for reimbursements. Contributions will be diminished and delayed. This is not the time for our grantmaking to be clever; it is the time for us to be flexible. To reiterate, I want to applaud our sector in affirming this point in so many ways.
b. Less stated but very important: We have also learned that we need to keep at least some of our powder dry. There are unanticipated demands, organizational re-alignments, and systemic dislocations that deserve attention – long after the crisis, whatever crisis, has passed from the headlines.
2. Our field needs to underscore our flexibility and agility in our spending policies.
We have just emerged from 11 years of a bull market. Any foundation or private funder would have had to be remarkably counter-trend to have earned only 5% each year over these years. In past economic downturns, some foundations adjusted their “base” corpus to a prior date or number so that there would greater ability to respond to genuine challenges faced by their grantees. This may be one of those time. For US based foundations, the recent change in the excise tax calculation makes this kind of spending adjustment much easier.
3. Our field needs to use all the arrows in our quiver.
a. If organizations are struggling with cash flow for reasons beyond their control, a revolving loan fund may prove useful. For US foundations, this would qualify as a PRI and can be a very effective support vehicle.
b. If the fields we are funding are suffering because of short-sighted public policy, advocacy can/must be a powerful tool to get the attention of policy makers. We know that the entire philanthropy capacity can never solve major systemic challenges alone, especially of the sort we are now facing, we can only accomplish what we are committed to with a concerted affirmation of the need for responsive and responsible public policy.
c. Our field has made great strides over the last few years in learning how to collaborate with each other, and with those who are directly responsible for implementation – sometimes called grantees or partners. The current reality – with both extreme economic dislocation and profound human vulnerability – calls for us to continue to model this welcome change in our behavior.
d. All of this is happening at a time when civil society has been at risk in the USA and elsewhere in the world. [The subject of a longer and more in-depth conversation, to be sure.] We must accept a mandate to become a stabilizing force at a very fragile moment in history.
This list is not intended to be complete nor to replace the extraordinary advice offered by so many, especially about how we work with grantees. It is simply an attempt to emphasize a very few of those recommendations that may not have been as widely articulated as some others.
The current challenges are not short term. Recessions, even those that are short lived, have always had severe implications for the most vulnerable. Add to that the recognition of how universal our human vulnerability is. Our work is only just beginning, and we will be called upon to rely on our depths of empathy and test the range of our sector’s capacity to continue to provide a source of support. We must.
February 17th, 2020
Let me get the self-congratulatory stuff out of the way at the beginning. Feel free to skip to ¶ 4:
In 2000, while still the CEO/EVP of a foundation that closed in 2002, I was invited to begin teaching funders at a new [now closed] NYU department, the Center for Philanthropy. At the time, I was only marginally better trained in the philanthropy field than those I was teaching [although by then I already did have 32 years of family, trustee, academic, and professional experience], but I had become convinced that such education mattered – and still does. After all, what arrogance that those of us in the foundation field that we could have all the power, have only self-authenticating wisdom, and no independent barrier to entry to ethically and responsibly give away billions of dollars. [see # 7 below] When invited, I felt a tremendous sense of responsibility not only to dig deep into my own diverse and relevant personal and professional background, but, more important, to include the accumulated knowledge of the key institutional players in the field at the time, all of whom I consulted.
Since then, I am proud to say that, on a very part time basis, I have taught well over 2000 funders from about 35 countries at NYU’s Academy for Funder Education [now closed] and, since 2016, at UPenn Center for High Impact Philanthropy. In addition, I have lectured in 40 countries and in many States, been a guest presenter at innumerable conferences and associations, and advised a significant number of families. The folks I teach are peers: philanthropists and foundation professionals and others of us on the funder side of the table.
Over these 20 years, I have worked hard to fine tune a helpful methodology for both teaching and giving, to articulate key philanthropy ideas, and to continue my own learning as our field expands, evolves, and matures. Moreover, there is no doubt that my work as a quondam philanthropy advisor, now much reduced, has been influenced by my experience with so many hundreds of funders from so many places. It has provided a massive internal database that could never be replicated were we to have developed a more typical philanthropy advisory practice.
¶ 4: In looking back at these 2 decades, here are some lessons learned:
1. Interrelationship between Public Policy and Private Philanthropy Matters: Anyone who has heard me lecture or teach over these 20 years knows that philanthropy cannot be fully understood independent of public policy. Moreover, it is almost impossible to ignore how crucial advocacy is to setting those policies once one is aware of how they impact the role and effectiveness of our philanthropy. I am delighted that this conversation has now finally moved to the center of discourse surrounding philanthropy’s role in society and is being led by many more well-known than I.
2. Every Funder is Unique and Every Funder is the Same: This apparent oxymoron is the reality of our field. People become philanthropically involved for all sorts of reasons. Those individual narratives need to be acknowledged and heard. But once beneath the surface, all philanthropy decisions prove generic. The challenge, as an educator or advisor, is how to get there.
On the international level, this is even more true. Everyplace has its own culture, history, ethos, and legal system. If one doesn’t honor or understand those differences, funders will never pay attention to the classic and generic core competencies that define our field. As mentioned above, I have had the honor of speaking in 40 countries. One must learn to listen very carefully in order to teach effectively and to be taken at all seriously.
3. The Need Continues: A few recent meetings with individual foundations and at speaking engagements have persuaded me that we have only begun scratching the surface of structured and impactful funder education in our sector. The questions of behaviors and practices, roles and responsibilities, expectations and impact that some have been fine tuning for many years are still brand new for many. Far too many philanthropists and funding organizations still function in isolation with little awareness of recommended norms, decision making methodologies, ways of evaluating what or why they are funding, and their larger potential as thoughtful self-aware contributors to a community’s wellbeing. The emerging field of “Philanthropy Service Organizations” [of which we view our Institute for Wise Philanthropy to be an integral part] still only represents those funders who have chosen to affiliate.
4. The Gratification of Helping Funders Learn Best Practices: One of the thrills of teaching is helping the entire potential of our field open up to those who had only a limited understanding. After 20 years, there is a wonderful litany of funders from around the world who have told us what a difference our teaching has made. Needless to say, how we teach has become fine-tuned, and what we teach continues to evolve, but the core competencies recommended by the field in the early aughts continue to inform and frame what every funder should know and what competencies should apply no matter what values, goals, or contexts of one’s funding.
5. The Importance of Affirming Rediscovery: If one has been in the field for a long time, one sees articles offering insights many of us had years ago, or re-inventing approaches that were new many times ago. I have seen numerous articles by other experienced thought-leaders express exasperation with the periodic attention given to those who claim to have invented the proverbial wheel. I know that I myself have to take a deep breath and respect these insights as a reflection of genuine learning. Whether I – or many others – had the same insights or used the same techniques or asked the same questions 2 decades ago or longer matters little to those for whom it is brand new.
Reading articles or press releases or reports that show the most recent innovations in our field, as if they are brand new, may yield a moment of disappointment that those folks never heard of those of us who published or spoke about a lot of those ideas a long time ago, but being an educator has helped me a lot in accepting that as normal. After all, for many centuries, students have read Plato or Maimonides or Shakespeare. Lo and behold, each generation of students comes to much the same understandings as their predecessors. It is the role of an educator to foster those understandings, to encourage those “aha” moments, not to deflate the enthusiasm of newly enlightened readers that what they are now “getting” is old news.
6. The Best Philanthropy Educators have had Multi-Sector Experience: Over the years of organizing courses and attending conferences, I learned something about what kind of background is most likely to produce an effective educator for fellow funders. Of course, good communication skills matter, but beyond that is having a deep range of experience. Those who are identified with only a single, albeit prestigious, foundation may have interesting things to say to the field, but rarely have the scope of experience to respond to the predictable array of funders in any seminar, workshop, or classroom.
7. My Biggest Frustration: This has been my broken record for a long time, and I fear will be long after I disappear from this scene.
It is unconscionable that there is no credential, no formal barrier to professional entry to this field. As suggested in paragraph 2 above, we give away billions of dollars, we are responsible for the well-being of an entire sector, and we can have real influence on public policy. Yet, unlike virtually every other professional field, including fundraisers, one need not know anything about the law, or best practices, or philanthro-ethics to be hired or have a career as a philanthropy consultant, advisor, or program officer. Of course, one cannot legislate what one does with one’s own money, but I believe that there should be a widely recognized credential for professionals that shows that one has knowledge of the basics. [I am not arguing that it need be a precondition to being hired since there are many good reasons to hire folks with other competencies and expertise, but it should be an expectation of every grantmaking professional within the first few years in the field.]
So that no one misunderstands: there is no one right way to give money, no one right set of priorities, etc. But there are many wrong ways. And any of us who have been in this field for a long time know that. I may have my own opinions about what education should inform the credential I would like to see, and I am more than happy to participate in a long overdue discussion since my opinions may not be adequate or even the emerging consensus. This will only work if the field as a whole endorses the validity of a credential and buys into certain core knowledge. [End of soapbox]
8. My Second Biggest Frustration: This one is more personal. I have been surprised by how many, especially those connected to affinity organizations in our field, are suspicious of my motivations to teach, mentor, and provide career advice. I guess I must bear some of the responsibility for this in the way I communicate my commitment, but I have learned that many seem to believe that I teach funders primarily as a way to generate personal business. It is certainly true that over the 20 years, a few, but only a very few of those who took university-based courses have contracted with me for some advisory help, but if I were teaching these courses with that purpose, I certainly have failed and would have stopped a long time ago. [In fact, for a long time, until I was dissuaded from doing so, if a “student” approached me, I would insist on giving the names of at least 2 other advisory firms to whom they should speak.] In any case, after 20 years, I wish I understood why that suspicion seems to persist.
9. Teaching is a superb discipline for keeping your thinking fresh, your knowledge up to date, and your ability to communicate well honed. No, this is not limited to philanthropy education – it is descriptive of what every good educator knows. In my case, teaching has had a salutary impact on my role as a funder, trustee, advisor, and speaker – and each of those roles has had a positive impact on my teaching.
Our field of philanthropy really can and does matter a lot, well beyond what our combined financial assets can accomplish. It is important that we set standards of thoughtfulness, ethics, and self-awareness in doing so. It has been a true honor and privilege to be recognized as someone who has helped reinforce those standards by imparting knowledge in and to my own field in so many settings around the world.
20 years…and counting.
February 10th, 2020
Long time readers know that I don’t ever name names. In the case of this post, I had to think about it for a while but then decided that, even this time, I won’t. Trust me, you would know them, and it would make the anecdotes I am about to share more real, but it might derail from my main points. So…
Anecdote #1: I went to an office supply store to pick up a couple of items. The amount wasn’t that great, so I decided to pay with cash. How luddite of me! Unfortunately, the person who checked me out miscounted the change by a few dollars. Thus, began an episode worthy of an old comedy skit.
The aforementioned salesperson couldn’t figure out how to get the register open again or even how much the correct change was supposed to be. She assured me that she has a PhD [she mentioned a first-rate university – also not named here in order to save them embarrassment] and since she only worked at the store part time, she didn’t know how the system worked. [Nor, it appears, did she know basic arithmetic.] So, she called a supervisor over to help. This new person needed to get the receipt in order to proceed but it was an e-receipt, so there wasn’t one to look at. She too couldn’t figure out how to open the machine, nor could she figure out the correct change [despite taking out a pen and paper to calculate it]. The two people at the register then called someone else, a super-supervisor I assume, who started all over again. She then went to another register to do some machinations related to my purchase, and about 10 minutes later returned, entered my purchases all over again, and gave me the $4.58 change.
All told, this process of checking out 3 small items took over 45 minutes.
I found myself wondering what would have happened if this had been a nonprofit that didn’t receive the correct amount promised by a foundation. Would they be dissed if they asked? Or given the run around to protect an administrative snafu? Or go through hoops to collect what had been contractually promised? Sadly, I have seen all of this.
Which brings me to anecdote #2.
It really wasn’t my day at all. That very same day, I needed to deal with a national phone and wireless company regarding a problem with my log-in. Somehow, the code had been compromised. It took me a while to determine the cause: I had 2 separate arrangements with this company and needed to make a billing change with one. Unfortunately, I ultimately realized, the agent on the phone had made changes to the wrong account and in so doing nullified my log-in.
Thus began an even longer process of correcting all of this. First I worked hard to locate a phone number. When I called, after endless phone menu options, I finally got to a real-life agent, who asked for all of my info, and them determined that I had to talk to someone else. The next person asked for all of the same info and also then said that it was the wrong department. The final live agent informed me, after gathering all of the very same information, that the firm no longer allowed one to address my issues through a live person – I had to make all the changes online but could consult the chat line on the site if I needed help. Eventually, the password was reset, and I was able to activate service without which it would have been impossible to function in this post-modern often surreal world. Total time for this entire exchange, almost 2 hours!
I guess I have a one-track mind since, here again, I found myself imagining the experience of a small non-profit trying to get some information from a large bureaucratic foundation. Calls to their office are deflected to the website Their website affirms that their on-line process is the way in which a grant-seeker is expected to communicate but one may have to proceed through numerous menu options before, hopefully, finding out the one bit of needed information.
One often hears stories like this from npo’s/ngo’s challenged by their experience with inscrutable foundations with impenetrable fortresses. Not every foundation has yet adopted best practices or gone through a CEP type self-analysis.
Now, let me be very fair: I used to head a foundation and was regularly bombarded by inappropriate or nonsense inquiries, or by those who simply didn’t want to accept what was stated clearly about our parameters and priorities, or even by our decisions. The grant seeker is not always correct; and surely not all of us are heartless bureaucrats; nor are all of our systems arcane.
But my experience with the two household-name companies with which I was trying to do routine business reminded me that we should not automatically dismiss what we might hear from those who seek our funds about what it is like to do business with us. We need to listen. They might be right.
December 5th, 2019
An earlier version of this post led some readers to infer that this was about only one incident in the philanthropy world – and read it “personally.” In fact, I intended my introduction to give an example of tendency in our philanthropy sector to sometimes be more impressed by the resources than the results. In order to eliminate the potential for it appearing to be a judgement on any one case, I have re-written this.
There is a tendency in the media, and even within our philanthropy field, to be blinded by big bucks. A nine figure gift is guaranteed to get a headline and other larger gifts are likely to get outsize attention. An Accompanying articles will mention the recipient organizations and how the money will be used in general terms, but rarely will those articles address whether the recipient is well-suited to implement such a gift, have a proven track record in the field, have a particular theory of change that makes this a potentially transformative gift, or even who else in that field may be doing important, if unsung, work in the same field.
In fact, if one looks closely at most of those gifts, we find that numerous organizations have been working in those sectors for a while, some for years. A few of these may have made some real impact, others not so much. Few, if any, though, were launched with the funding of this new gift and none ever received the attention this new gift has received. Indeed, if one were not familiar with the sector, one might conclude that a newly well endowed organization is about to plow virgin land even though it has yet to announce exactly what it intends to do. It is as if money talks more than accomplishment.
This is not a new phenomenon and represents a cautionary tale for those of us in the funding sphere. There are funders who always prefer an exciting new venture – assuming either that “new” must be better than “old” or, perhaps, if the “old” organizations really knew what they were doing, there wouldn’t have been the need for a new one. Indeed, sometimes that is true. And it has been my privilege, both as a CEO of a foundation and a trustee of others and even as a personal funder, to have been involved in launching some extraordinary and creative start-ups that really did push their respective fields into new and exciting areas.
But not always. When I was the CEO of a foundation, we also made some flawed decisions. Sometimes we overlooked quite successful, if un-showy, organizations in favor of those with more sizzle and pizzazz. Sometimes we pushed wonderful boutique organizations to reach for scale, in the process forcing them to lose the uniqueness that got them there – and all too often destroying them in the process. We occasionally were so committed to “transformation” that we underestimated the long-lasting on the ground, efforts that are always indispensable for any change to have staying power. And, let’s be honest, we too often were taken with early stage charisma more than solid competence and creativity.
That we were not alone in these missteps does not exempt us from responsibility. All too often these errors were because I was taking the lead from others who seemed to have done their due diligence. If colleagues I respected were funding them, why should I spend my time repeating what they had presumably done? Moreover, I had plenty of other due diligence or monitoring or relationship building to attend to. Why not trust those who had already made informed affirmative – or negative – decisions? Yes, even funders have a tendency toward a herd mentality. [Once, following the lead of a goodly number of fellow funders, many of whom we had previously partnered with, we made a grant to what seemed to be a successful and innovative program. Almost immediately I found the executive to be intolerable, the organization unwilling to submit required financial reports, and, literally from the day they received their commitment, they were asking to renegotiate for more. Finally, I called a couple of other funders to ask if that was their experience as well. One said: “We hold our nose and fund them anyway.” Mea culpa. I could and should have discovered that before encouraging our funding.]
There are lessons that have served me well in making subsequent judgments about grantees. More, they have served me well in reminding me of the essential humility that needs to accompany all of our thinking as funders. After all, when we fund, we fund the future, and no matter how evidence-driven or seemingly a no-brainer, nothing about the future is guaranteed. And if we are trying to fund “change”, all the more so.
I don’t want to trivialize or be dismissive of the advantage of resources. After all, far too many non-profits trying to do good and important work have been handcuffed by profoundly inadequate resources. And, there are still too many funders who hold that against them – as if poverty – even among non-profits – must be deserved and even punished. [This was written but not published before the shameful cutbacks in SNAP funding announced by our heartless pseudo US administration. In one heartless stroke, 700,000 people will lose coverage. Those of us in the philanthropy world should take note and make sure we aren’t implicitly doing the same thing in how we treat under-resourced nonprofits.]
Our field has a tendency to forget that the very term “not for profit” was coined precisely because it assumed that social service work will never be profitable – or generate surpluses. There is no doubt that cash reserves of 3 to 6 months are signs of a healthy organization; but, with government cutbacks or a history of hand-to-mouth finances, not every organization providing quality on the ground human services can imagine that kind of financial security that we as funders prefer. Should we as funders penalize them for that? This goes beyond the current, long overdue, commitment of many in our field to provide operating support; it recognizes the fragility that defines a very high percentage of on the ground nonprofits.
It is true that greater resources can allow greater impact. Sometimes those resources are hidden from view but allow an organization to have a healthy infrastructure that ensures increased effectiveness. Sometimes those resources are very visible – allowing marketing muscle to bring attention of a cause to the public so that responsible public policy can be enacted. [The reverse is also true, of course.] And sometimes sufficient resources can fund continuing r & d so that successful organizations can continue to be successful. And sometimes it is because there are only a very few organizations with the size and capacity to absorb mega gifts.
But it is also true that too often we are blinded by the money part and pay far too little attention to the underlying theories of change or whether those funds are going to where the needs are greatest or whether they will be used as effectively as a less well-funded organization might…
Around this time of year, our media celebrate voluntarism, the grassroots work that so many do throughout the year, the necessary boots on the ground of so much social service. They rarely talk about the professional staff, often underpaid, who make it happen and whose work goes unrecognized the remaining 51 weeks of the year.
It is a fair bet that the same media will give headline attention to a mega gift at any time of the year. That coverage is typically of the voyeuristic type, more engaged with the donor than on the needs the gift is supposed to address. There has been a good deal written in the last couple of years about the implications of the concentration of wealth for the nonprofit sector. Those of us in the philanthropy field are discussing the issues of equity at every conference. However, I daresay that most mainstream media haven’t paid that much attention to our heartfelt self examinations.
At this time of year, let’s celebrate generosity in all of its forms and at every level. Let’s also not get blinded by outsized gifts that may or may not accomplish what is really needed. Money talks and money matters, but in the field of real human need and social inequity, money alone does not guarantee success.
November 26th, 2019
It is hard to imagine that anyone in the philanthropy field has not participated in, read about, or been engaged with questions of “equity”. In fact, one would have to be willfully distracted to not be aware of its prevalence over the last couple of years.
Since so much has been written, said, published, and sometimes even implemented, I will take for granted that any reader of this piece does not need a primer. Our genuine concern with underlying systemic issues combined with legitimate concerns with the overt disparity of wealth distribution means that our field has both a mandate and a challenge at the same time. And to the credit of our sector, the discourse has been informed, caring, and purposeful even when there is a wide range of thinking about what all of this means – for us and for public policy.
It is in this context that I would like to comment on a program I attended recently which explicitly was marketed as a “conversation about racial equity.” [Since I don’t have permission of the organization or the speakers to publicly identify them, I will respect anonymity and trust that only a very few readers will know to whom I am referring.]
While advertised as a conversation among trustees, truth be told it was really a series of presentations. That may seem a nitpick but it does mean that I cannot say whether my responses are representative of other funders in the room or not. There is no question that the personal stories of how the presenters, persons of privilege, learned of the depth and reality of racial injustice and inequity were moving and convincing. This sensitivity has clearly influenced their philanthropic giving priorities and even the ethos of the organizations and foundations they head. One can and should applaud their honesty, sincerity, and commitments.
And yet… I kept thinking about the bottom line of how this all plays out. There was only time for one question, and the one question, by a very prominent woman of color [a relevant datum in this context], was the same one I kept thinking about – governance. Who is on the board? Who makes the decisions? What are the implications for family funders who are the source of the money and who have legal control of the money?
As one who has participated in my share of equity related discussions and has observed many more, I was struck by the absence of any reference to some of the mantras that inform our thinking: even if they didn’t use the term “participatory grantmaking” or quote the catch-phrase “nothing about us without us”, I would have welcomed something more than that they were personally awakened, their grantmaking priorities had changed, and even their staffing was more reflective of a racial balance. These things matter and I am not dismissing them.
But in response to the question about governance, the principals on the panel were unequivocal. One said “it is my money and…” Another said, “it is our family foundation and only family can sit on the board.”
This is not a criticism of those forthright and honest answers, but I would have liked a response that showed that they understood the complexity of those answers. Power and privilege are very real. It is naïve to think that there are easy ways to share them or even when or if one should surrender them, but those of us who have that power and privilege need to at least demonstrate that we understand what that means.
The absence of these sensitivities was particularly striking at this event. These are people who really care – in very personal ways, in philanthropic ways, in behavioral ways. They all demonstrated that they knew the difference between tokenism and enfranchisement. They all set a personal standard to which most in the philanthropy field should still aspire. They really do want change and want to model it as well as they know how.
I myself struggle with the line between enfranchisement and empowerment. I don’t know if and when we have a moral and ethical and historic obligation to cede at least some power in the board room, and if so, how far that should go. Especially for family funders, it is a genuine dilemma for which I can’t propose a facile solution.
But, acknowledging that, I still would have liked to see more self-awareness of the governance control dilemma from these thoughtful, caring, and committed funders. If it is that hard even for them to talk about, it is clear how far we have to go, as a field and as a nation, to really redress the deep-seated racial and social inequities that are so endemic to American society.
November 21st, 2019
Yes, we are approaching that time of year again. You know, the one that Hallmark celebrates 24 hours a day, filled with song and mirth and everyone celebrating together despite the inevitable travails, misunderstandings, and missteps. Somehow, by the end, it all works out perfectly. Sure, why not?
I don’t know for sure, but it is possible that Hallmark doesn’t accurately portray your family, or mine. Let’s face it, in reality, most families, even when they celebrate together, have challenges. Sometimes those challenges are simple differences in style or distance. Other times, competing life expectations are difficult or impossible to ignore.
Many families use these holiday occasions for family meetings. For good reason. It may very well be the only time of the year when almost everyone is in the same place at the same time. If it is a family with shared financial responsibilities, the family meetings can be formal, and if the resources warrant, are often accompanied by non-family specialists such as attorneys or wealth advisors. Other times they are less formal, focused on the normal challenges of multi-generational families regarding senior citizen needs, property maintenance, and the like.
I am not a family systems expert, nor an attorney, nor a wealth advisor. But I do know something about family philanthropy [which requires that I also know at least a little something about family systems, law, and money]. It is often around the philanthropy meetings that the issues of expectations, values, life choices, intergenerational or sibling tensions get played out. The reasons are complex but, in general, it is because the philanthropy conversations can be an indirect proxy for all of the inherent issues of family dynamics. To take one of many possible examples: It may be overtly confrontational to accuse a sibling of being ego-driven and using family resources for personal social gain. It is a lot safer to allude to those things when that sibling insists on having his or her name prominently featured by a charitable entity and to address the implications for the rest of the family. Or for another: it may be awkward to accuse the founding generation of heavy-handed control when they are also the ones who have made your lifestyle possible. But it might be possible to get to that issue of control, circuitously, when that same founder insists that his or her charitable commitments must be endorsed by the grandchildren, even if reluctantly. It is a difficult discussion to be sure, but, when done well, that discussion can be about priorities rather than personality.
That these can be difficult meetings should not mean that they should be avoided. Rather it means that they often can benefit by being carefully planned or even facilitated by someone who understands the full picture. If structured well, with a full empowerment of all at the table, these can lead to a renewed family motivation, unity, and purpose. That does not mean unanimity of style, values, priorities; only that the process can be fulfilling in underscoring that this is a family choosing to honor its heritage, its possibilities, and its potential. There are proven methods to get there, and when done well, can leave a family much more gratified than when they start.
For more than a quarter century, I have had the pleasure of teaching and advising literally several thousands of funders of all sorts. Most of them are family funders. Their starting point when they come to me, or to any of us who is in this sector, is often “giving money away is harder than we thought it would be.”
There are times when deep underlying unresolved family issues are never far from the surface. I have seen late-in-life decisions by founders to create a family foundation in the hope that contentious offspring will find a way to resolve those hostilities with a common legacy and responsibility. Sadly, philanthropy can never magically resolve these kinds of long-simmering, never-resolved family issues – at least on its own.
But for families with a more under-control set of issues, philanthropy can often enhance a family’s ability to appreciate one another and learn to make decisions together. They can lead to shared aspirations for successor generations and for a determination of how their noblesse oblige might be manifest in different places and in different ways.
Where might all of this play out? For many, at the annual family meeting. Since the decisions and feelings that will emanate from this meeting will last far beyond the aroma of even the most delicious holiday leftovers, it is worth putting time and resources into making it a productive and fulfilling experience for all.
November 15th, 2019
“Sunlight is the Best Disinfectant”. Justice Louis Brandeis is credited with this affirmation of the legitimacy of unrestricted, even hate, speech. His argument is that exposing hate and dishonesty for what they are will rebut them more effectively than outlawing any speech, and on the whole, that approach has defined the American ethos and approach to speech in the public domain. In the US, behavior should have limitations, speech needn’t.
Such sentiments are not intuitively obvious, nor universally endorsed. Germany, for example, outlaws Holocaust Denial and Nazism since it wants to make it absolutely clear that the facts related to the nadir of human history, and their role in that, are not negotiable. Their Post-War leaders saw that the popular will can be manipulated too easily with horrendous results, so rebuilding and sustaining a democratic society requires no less than an absolute commitment to the truth. Truth and accountability matter; the risks, they felt and still do, are too great to compromise.
This very argument underscores the current debate about whether there should be limits on what social networks may or may not publish with impunity. In the world and age in which we now live, so very different from the times of Brandeis, hate and falsehood are the all too frequent currency of willful manipulators with nefarious intent who use social media to shape the world to their own interests.
The reason this is so difficult is that, unlike the times of Brandeis, there is now an anarchization of knowledge. Too many assume that if they see it on the internet it must be true – or true-ish, or, conversely, they disbelieve all information assuming that whatever they hear or read is no more than opinion. A sobering example of this is Climate Change. If one looks hard enough, one can find someone online who sounds authoritative who disagrees with 99% of the scientists and the overwhelming evidence. If one wants support for “denial” one can find it. It is all too easy, in this early stage of on-line epistemology, to believe and espouse falsehood. Other examples abound.
The headline examples that have demanded our recent attention are the decisions of Facebook [and others, but FB is the prime example] to allow posts that are clearly dishonest, purposely politically malignant, and spew destructive hatred, xenophobia, racism, anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, and all forms of hatred. Their response to date is aligned with the Brandeis proposition that an informed reader can make an educated judgment. They are simply allowing open speech. [For this discussion I am discounting the profit motive issue since this debate would apply even if that weren’t a factor.]
Sadly, those arguments are neither persuasive nor morally acceptable in this era. The manipulation of the US election system – and others – has been unequivocally demonstrated. The destructive power of “believers” and those easily manipulated by disinformation and outright lies has shown itself to have lethal implications. If FB is the source of mediated or, more accurately, unmediated information for billions, they have a responsibility to understand the implications of what they choose to allow.
Having said all of this, perhaps the only responsible action on my part would be to close my Facebook account. After all, as some argue, only if they see that they have crossed a line that their customers cannot abide will they re-think their stance on what may be published or purchased.
But before making that decision, I want to take a step back: Facebook and other social networks have been transformative in creating virtual but authentic connections that otherwise would be lost. Some years ago, I wrote about how virtual communities have recreated communal connections after years of increased atomization. Suburbanization, for example, has served to isolate people from one another except in limited structured contexts. Gone are the incidental interactions that characterize organic community. All too often in the modern era, we don’t hear about the events in people’s lives, albeit most of them are transient and even trivial, that fill in the gaps between life’s chapter headings. And very often we don’t hear about the lives and deaths of people who are in your life but not central to it.
At least until Facebook entered the scene. Suddenly we see the trivial and the transient and the indulgent from an ever growing “neighborhood” of our choosing. We also keep up with events in the lives of people who may be around the corner or around the world many of whom may not be in our inner circle but about whom we care. How often have I learned about rites of passage or career changes or recognitions or even the passing of people who matter to me!
Some readers may recall an article I wrote 10 years ago after my mother’s death. I compared the responses at that time to those of the time when my father died a decade earlier. When my father died, I was still employed in a relatively well-known capacity and had a long list of related affiliations. Announcements were shared among the organizations with which I had a formal connection. Many expressed condolences and sympathy. When my mother died, I was self employed and had few ongoing professional affiliations, and the only announcement of her passing was on Facebook. Much to my surprise, the number of people who expressed condolences, even in person, far exceeded the earlier time. By a lot. [Others have shared similar experiences.]
I confess, I have had to learn a lot about what, when, and if to post. As time has passed, I have learned to be more disciplined about how I use social media. No one really needs to know every restaurant I visit, how often I am on Amtrak to NY, and all sorts of other trivia that once upon a time characterized my all too frequent postings. But many do appreciate when I have participated in significant meetings somewhere in the world, or been together with friends and colleagues who are also “friends” with lots of others, and even my Starbucks C.O.L. index has its followers. And I appreciate those kinds of postings from others. These may not be life changing events or life chapter headings, but they matter. They matter because they give a vibrancy and vitality to the everyday context of life: to my life and the lives of many who are part of the totality of what it means to live in communities, even when virtual.
That kind of incidental knowledge was what people used to take for granted in their daily lives, and we forgot about for a while. The reason FB is so popular is that it has allowed people to restore this natural kind of incidental knowledge and relationship. It works because it is real. And I am not sure how I would replace those kinds of interactions if I were to drop this most social of social networks. I have learned that many people matter to me, that I am glad to learn about some part of their daily lives, that it matters that I hear about their major life events even if at a distance of time and space.
So, indeed, it is a dilemma. Facebook as a company needs to be held accountable for major self-serving decisions that impact all of us in dangerous ways. Facebook as a system is necessary to help maintain social connections and virtual communities that impact so many of us in productive ways.
For now, with ambivalence, I have decided to stay the course [as some readers now see for themselves.] But it doesn’t exempt us from insisting that FB publicly calls out lies, rumors, and rejects all on-line presence from those who would distort and destroy.
No doubt that is very hard – for them; losing our democracy would be much harder – for all of us.